Infection
by Totally-T3ii3
Summary: In the end its best to amputate... Staring: Gary and Pete, Rated: for language, Warnings: Angst from scarface. Its rather a drabble, and a one-shot. R&R I used symbolism quite a bit in this as well.


Alright sooo I dunno where this came from, but it was too good an idea to pass up.

Please reviw and tell me if it sucks or not.  
I do not own Bully or any characters of said game.

Dedicated To: Dragonballgeek for sitcking around as my faithful-- and ever-eager-- RP buddy all these long years and not judging me when times got hard and I strayed off the path. :D Thank you! Oh, also: for getting me to buy Bully. Big thankies for that one. Haha.

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The walls were painted, which surprised Gary. Normally when you see places like Happy Volts Asylum on television the hallways and ceilings are covered in the same white lanolium tiles as the floor, and if there isn't lanolium on the walls then there are flamingo pink cushions pading every surface a mentally-troubled patient might try to harm him, or her, self with. But, there were no shiny, white walls, or soft pink ones- the walls in Happy Volts were a bland off-white smear of uneven paint over concrete slabs.

It was an ugly place, more ugly than the school he'd just taken a hand in destorying, and much colder. Happy Volts Asylum always had the air-conditioning on blowing a cold wind down and into the collar of his loose shirt making his skin prickle with goosebumps. Gary hated air-conditioning it was.. so cold. He didn't like being cold, which probably shocked some people once he admited it, he never knew why. He always tried to wear as many layers of clothes as he could get away with- usually a beater under the button-up white dress shirt, which was under his snug-fitting school vest, the slacks were warm but he wore boxer-briefs anyway. Boxers were too baggy and when he allowed himself to wear them cold air would roll up the leg and it was extremely unpleasant.

The Orderlies on either side of him each had an arm twisted behind his back painfully, of course though, there was no reason. Gary had no intention to run. He hated it there, of course, but he'd been dealt a severe blow several moments ago. His will to fight was trampled and kicked into the sewage-filled ditch, his chest was hollow and if he didn't feel his heart's slow, heavy beat, he wouldn't believe it was there anymore. Everything felt so surreal now, as the Orderlies half-dragged, half-carried him back to his cell, his eyes downcast. He didn't want to fight anymore. They threw him into the room, where he landed on his bed with a rough thud and his head smacked off the painted wall.

The paint in his cell was chipping, rolling down in long flakey strips, and when he first step foot in the cell the (or so he called it) "infection" was solely in the top corner of the left wall, now it was nearly the entire wall. Peeling off paint had become his hobby, but now he didn't want to do it. He wanted to just curl up into a ball and disappear. He didn't want to die, no, that would constitute a viewing and a funeral and expenses, people pretending to mourn, shedding fake tears, and talking about him. He wanted to disappear because if he mysteriously went away no one but Happy Volts would know.. and the Orderlies wouldn't care.

He folded himself up neatly, knees to his chest, chin on top of them as his arms wrapped protectivley aorund his drawn-up legs. He'd lay like this often back in Bullworth, locking the door so Femme-boy couldn't come in and see and bombard him with undwanted questions. His body, which had grown scrony due to lack of nourishment and exercise was now shaking with supressed sobs. He hated this empty, weak feeling swelling in his chest so forcefully he thought myabe he'd burst. He didn't want to burst.

Gary hadn't cried in years, he honestly could not remember the last time his eyes misted-over with salty tears. Even now in his moment of despair there was no mist just a burning sensation in his eyes where tears should have been but weren't-- vaugley he wished they were there just so he could get over this crying thing. He didn't want to cry but there was no denying the heavy shakey breaths he was taking or the sobs he was trying to hard to keep behind his mouth, clamped shut in a perfect straight line.

He hadn't had a single visitor all summer, which hadn't truly bothered him, he didn't want anyone to see him like this, but when an Orderly opened his cell and snatched him up to drag him to the room where the occupants could see their vistor in a nice, safe enviorment-- he was a little excited. He honestly expected it to be Petey, but when he staggered in with a rough shove from the Orderly and saw his mother sitting on the guest couch his jaw dropped. No way could he believe she was coming to see him. She hadn't been the worst mother in the world, but she didn't deserve an award or anything. His father had been the one to break-Gary-in and the most she'd done was ignore it. Okay, in retro-spect it was her fault, she had the power to stop the abuse, but Gary didn't want to blame his mother. So he didn't.

She looked up her perfect make-up was smudged and her caramel-colored eyes were red from crying. Gary waited for her to say how disappointed she wa sbut it never came because the next thing he knew her arms were sliding around his neck and his face was burried in her shoulder. He returned the embrace, she smelled the same as always, like some exotic tropic fruit. Probably, he mused, due to all her time spent in the Bahama's with her new Husband-- Gary never met him. He knew he was a rich, older man who wanted a sexy woman before he died, and he'd gotten Gary's mother. She really was gorgeous, and she was tall, and Gary loved that because it wasn't awkward. He never wanted to grow another inch because then he'd be too tall to stand right next to her.

In the end, Gary Smith just really did love his mother, but it was hard to remember this during the long hours spent lying on a lumpy cot in an Asylum listening to the other prisoners moan and talk to themselves. In those hours he wondered why she was never there for him- why did she only come when something bad had happened and he needed to know? It wasn't fair. But, he tried not to harp over that now that she was standing right there with him.

"Sweety, I have to tell you something" she said, speaking like he was four-years-old again, she too his face gently between her hands. He braced himself, but wasn;t ready for the blow, "Your Grandfather passed away last night."

Gary hadn't really thought about it at the time. So? He'd scoffed, his Grandparents had never done anything for him. But then it hit him-- his Grandfather was just another face he'd never see. He wasn't leaving Happy Volts for.. for months, and no one was coming. So, it wasn't really the death that he was taking hard, it was the fact he'd been such a jerk beforehand that now in his time of need no one even glanced out of their happy, little life-bubble to stop by and see him. Not even his own mother. But he hadn't cried, their visits were too short to cry, she only ever stayed about ten or fifteen minutes. The Asylum made her uncomfrotable, and Gary couldn't blame her.

But now.. now he was all alone again on his lumpy little cot- shaking and snivelling pathetically to keep the sobs at bay. No one cared, not a single soul in the whole world wanted to come and see Gary Smith. It wouldn't matter if he was suddenly gone, no one would think about him. He wished he was a fairy, because then people could just simply say: "I don't believe in Gary Smith" and he'd be gone. He always thought that would be amazing, if someone just said they didn't believe in you and you died. He really wished someone would say that- just so he could test the theory.

He was lying there for hours, just hours not knowing what to do with himself, he contemplated several times to bash his head off the wall until it was a bloody mess and he was either dead or a vegetable. The former is what he wanted but being even mor mentally-unsound couldn't be that bad- at least he wouldn't relaize no one cared.. then his situation might be tolerable.

--

A few weeks pased and no one came- he wasn't surprised, though it hurt all the same he wasn't expecting anything different. Just because you're feeling sorry for yourself in an Asylum does in no way imply that people will realize your distress and come to your rescue. It was Tuesday. Gary hated Tuesday's bcause then some of the prisoners were allowed to have family and friends into their cell for two whole hours- if they behave. Gary was one fo those select few but no one came so Gary didn't even climb out of bed on Tuesdays.

This Tuesday was a little different and he heard a metal clang at his door, he looked up and saw an Orderly. Great, he thought, it must be the fifteenth at two o'clock, they always brought him a big, off-green pill on the fifteenth of every month at exactly two o'clock. No, wait, it was the sixteenth he'd taken the pill yesterday. Or at least, he was sure he had. The door opened then and the Orderly shoved in a scared-looking boy with short, wiry brown hair and a pink shirt. Gary's eyes widened.

"Petey?" he asked

The boy in question looked Gary in the eyes rather emotionlessly. "Hi Gary" he said, sounding fearless, or, maybe he sounded angry

"What brings you here, Femme-boy?" Gary asked, a smirk toying with his lips. This was great! He could pick on Kowalski a bit and he'd feel much better, someone out there must like him.

"Cut the crap Gary- I'm just doing Jimmy a favor and finding out when you're being released." Pete snapped at him and Gary looked down. No, it was the opposite someone out there really hated him.

"..can't you ask at the front desk?" he murmured keeping his gaze in his lap, he back was against the wall, and he had his knees drawn up like a shield to protect himself from something- maybe Petey's eyes, how angry and narrow they were, or his voice which was teetering from toleration to irritation and at any second a volley of words would be thrown at the other boy- Gary wasn't sure how he'd handle that.

"I tried but they mistakened me as a visitor and brought me here!" Peter exclaimed, rolling his eyes

He hadn't wanted to see Gary. He hadn't cared at all about seeing Gary. He was doing a favor for his new friend James Hopkins. He.. he didn't care. Not even Femme-boy cared! Gary felt tears finally mist-over his eyes and his breath hitched. No! He cursed himself, not now! Not with Femme-boy right there! He couldn't cry now! He tried to fight them off but that was easier said than done, and Petey noticed him hide his face in his hands and he saw his shoulders tremble.

"Uhm.. Gary?" he asked hesitantly, there was no response only Gary's hysterical breathing. Was Gary Smith really crying? Petey wondered, or was it just another of his theatrics? "Gary. I'm sorry?" he offered

"Just go!" Gary exclaimed turning away from Petey to curl into a ball and hide himself from the world. "Go away and don't c-come back! I- I don't need you! I d-don't need any of you! I don't want you c-coming to see me! I don'.. don' need anyone!" he hollered triyng to bite back the sobs

"Gary, I'm sorry." Petey said feeling like a peice of shit- he'd made Gary Smith, of all people, cry. He went over and knelt by him on the bed and placed his hand on Gary's trembling shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"No you aren't! Go away!" Gary yelled and Petey saw a tear roll between his tightly closed finegrs to land on the sheets of the cot. "I'm f-fine by myself. Don't need anyone. Just go." his shouts were gone, he was muttering now, more to himself than to Peter.

"I didn't mean to make you cry- look, I'm sorry! Gary, but.. what do you expect?" Petey asked heatedly

Gary started bawling and there was no way he could keep these sobs at bay, he was shaking and the tears wouldn't stop and it hurt. It all hurt so badly. The hollow feeling in his chest was swelling larger and even though his body wanted to turn and cry into Petey's arms, his pride wouldn't allow it. "I- I dunno! I- I didn' think y-you'd hate me, P- Pete! N-not you!" he sobbed, "I- I'm so fucked up even- even Peter Kowalski doesn't give a d-d-damn about me! Not even th- the optimistic Fe- Fem-" he couldn't stop crying and the words refused to come

"Gary.." Petey sighed and then Gary didn't have to turn because Pete had squeezed himself between Gary and the wall and was holding him now, Gary grabbed fistfulls of the soft pink material and burried his face into it as he cried. "No one has come to see you, huh?" Gary shook his head- not wanting to mention his mother, she hadn't wanted to see him- she'd stay longer if that was the case. "And.. I just came in.. oh, god, Gary I'm sorry."

"Not y-your fault. I- I don't need people"

"Yes you do or you wouldn't be crying" and Gary knew it was true, so he didn't argue, and Petey kept holding him until he'd run out of tears and they were only clinging to each other because of the horrible air-conditioning that froze them. The Orderly came up then and told them it was time for Pete to leave. They untangled themselves from their embrace. Gary was still a little shakey.

"...will you come next tuesday?" he asked softly

Pete nodded, "I'll be here" he said patting Gary on the shoulder and leaving him alone.

Gary layed back on the lumpy cot matress, he let out a final shakey breath and his eyes slid shut. Oh, wow, he sighed- he had never expected his eakest moment in life to turn out like that. He'd sunk to his lowest, he'd let Femme-boy see him cry but Petey didn't let him down. He stuck right there with him through the entire ordeal. That was much more than anyone had ever done for Gary in his entire life.

Just like the crumbling paint on the corner, Gary thought, those damn tears might be an infection of some sort as well. Well, when something is too infected its best to amputate it. He went back to chipping away the paint in the corner of his cell.

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I suppose its rather a drabble. But hey. I liked it.


End file.
